The sick is finally retreating, my Blackberry is back to being functional and the rest of the day will be spent at a photoshoot. Suffice to say, things are looking up. I blame the magic soup.
My roommate Cheryl* is an excellent cook and one of her specialties is Matzo ball soup. When we lived together in Waltham she would make it for me when I was ill-usually she'd make a huge pot because when one of us got sick, ALL of us got sick. Call it old Jewish mysticism, ju-ju, scientific research that proves chicken broth has healing properties-whatever. I'm convinced that Matzo ball soup can cure anything.
So, now that I am married and live kind of far from Cher, I was going to have to make it for myself. And while I'm fairly accomplished in the kitchen, this soup holds a kind of sacred place and I've been too intimidated to try it. But the other night, I decided it was time. The recipe was kind of thrown together and holy cow, it worked! It still didn't have that special something that Cher's does, but it was delicious. And suddenly I am feeling exponentially better.
*I think that "roommate" is a distinguished title that indicates a person who was willing-maybe even enjoyed-putting up with you on a very intimate level. I think it deserves a status like "Mr. President," even when no longer in office, one is still referred to as "Mr. President." So, while all the ladies who we lived with in that giant house in Waltham have all gone off to other directions, I still refer to them as my roommates.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment